


i feel it in my bones

by Lightning of Farosh (Medea_Nunc_Sum)



Category: The Legend of Zelda & Related Fandoms
Genre: Blood, Character Study, Four-centric, Gen, Linked Universe (Legend of Zelda), Magical Artifacts, everyone makes an appearance - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-06
Updated: 2020-05-06
Packaged: 2021-03-02 22:42:24
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,869
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24044587
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Medea_Nunc_Sum/pseuds/Lightning%20of%20Farosh
Summary: Things that are saturated with magic always end up getting a mind of their own at some point or another.
Relationships: Four & Sky (Linked Universe)
Comments: 15
Kudos: 236





	i feel it in my bones

_“Oh, no! No magic swords! Nothing but unwarranted surprises.”_

_“So, what’s with that one?”_

_“You’ll see when the time comes. The Four Sword is just as impressive.”_

oOo

The rainstorm shook the old oak trees, broke apples from branches, and made creeks tremble. Four watched a river swirl beneath him, eyes on the broken yellow of his hair in darkened, muddied waters. Grey stone, slicked by the storm, caught on his sleeves as he got up to his toes, leaning over to see if he could make out his eyes from that distance.

A few raindrops landed on the back of his neck, slid underneath his tunic. Cruel, white light crackled, booming through the sky.

He shuddered and pulled back.

“Everything alright?” Twilight had his hands full with Epona’s reigns but his eyes were warm despite the chill of the storm.

“Fine,” Four told him. He glanced back over the side of the bridge, but four figures that had stood around his reflection were long gone. “It’s... it’s fine.”

oOo

In the right light, his sword reflected colours it shouldn’t. Red, blue, green, violet. An equal array of splattered colours spread across the wall. Ignoring the faint rumble of thunder, he used the fire to send a makeshift rainbow dancing across the walls.

“Interesting sword.”

Four jerked, his fingers tightening around the pommel so the blade wouldn’t clatter to the ground, and glanced over at Legend.

The older hero was sprawled with his back against a rock, hat spread out beside him after being wrung free of water. He was watching Four with half open blue eyes, hair spiked towards the ceiling as it dried.

“Where’d you get it?”

Four shrugged and looked down at the steel. “A pedestal in the woods somewhere.”

There was a bark-like laugh from Legend. “Funny how that works,” he said.

“Yeah,” Four murmured. “Funny.”

oOo

Four woke up to a crack of wood and jerked, reaching for a bow, for a sword, for a hammer, for a sword. There was a fire, low but burning, in the middle of the cave. It sent lines of amber light across the stone, turning crevices into jack-o-lanterns.

His fingers found the hilt of the Four Sword and Four sighed, pressed his other hand against his chest, and tried to breathe. There was too much inside of him; spinning, swirling, mosaic of colours and emotions that didn’t quite fit under his skin.

Steel was cold against his palm and Four tightened his grip, tugging his sword closer. Someone groaned and rolled over. He stilled, holding his breath.

Wood creaked and rattled in the wind, quiet voices echoed of the walls from where those who had taken watch spoke quietly together, but otherwise... nothing.

Four relaxed into his bedroll and watched the shadows flicker across the wall. He tried to pick out shapes from their blurred corners before sleep came to claim him once again.

oOo

“Wait,” lifting his hand to stop whatever Wild was going to say, Four turned to Hyrule. “You didn’t have any companions at _all?_ ”

Tilting his head to the side, Hyrule looked between the two of them. “Well,” he said, “besides the occasional villager in a town, no.”

“And there was no one on the roads? Travellers? Merchants?” Wild leaned forward.

Hyrule leaned back, shaking his head. “Just monsters.”

“Huh,” Four stepped to the side and Wind ran past him, laughing wildly and holding Warriors’ scarf above his head. The soldier was hot on his heels, screeching something but unable to hide the grin on his lips. “I just—I never had an adventure without one so that’s just...”

“Well,” Hyrule just smiled, “can’t miss what you didn’t have, right? Besides; I liked it.”

Looking over the brown haired teenager, Four hummed. He couldn’t really imagine Hyrule as anything other than alone; even with the others he was a bit separated. Legend and Wild tended to drag him away from his sheltered spaces and distances to sit around the camp fires.

“Suppose so,” Four said, “I guess you’d hate to know that, at one point, I had _three_ companions.”

“That’s...” Hyrule scrunched up his nose in poorly disguised disgust, “ _Excessive_.”

Four could only laugh.

oOo

The hilt of the Four Sword pressed against his forehead, cool against Four’s hot skin as he watched an insect with too many legs crawl over the toe of his boot. Heavy swamp air stuck his tunic to his back and wrapped around his chest like a massive snake made of acidic fog. His body was too small, his thoughts too big, and they buzzed through his skull trying to find any way to escape until all he wanted was to scream and scream and scream some more—

Fabric caught on wood.

His head shot up.

“Sorry,” Time said, his voice hushed. The words caught on the humidity in the air and hovered for a second. Almost like an echo.

 _Almost_.

Four dropped his head back down.

“That rough, huh?”

He groaned.

Time chuckled quietly under his breath and leaned back. His armour had been shed a while ago, leaving him in just a thin, pale green tunic and pair of trousers. Any campfire had been abandoned for the night; the stars and heavy, fat moon providing enough pale, silver light to see by. Instead, Legend had used his ice rod, summoning massive chunks of frozen water for them to curl up by.

Wolfie was sprawled across one, panting softly from the heat. Hyrule had curled up next to him, swaddled like a burrito in a blanket with only a thin rag protecting his face from the ice.

Four debated about pressing his back against another but all of his limbs felt as if they were obeying different parts of his brain.

“Try to get some sleep, alright?”

Licking his lips, Four tasted salt.

He nodded.

“Good,” Time said before standing with a groan. His bones cracked as he stretched, managing to sound like a warning and a promise all at once.

Four didn’t watch him go.

oOo

Master Sword steel caught the edge of a club, cutting through bone and wood like they were room-melted butter. Sky ducked beneath another swing, bringing his blade up in an upside down arch that cut the bokoblin’s arm from its body.

He finished it with a stab to the throat, cutting off a scream before it could start.

Four stood back, black monster blood smeared across the front of his tunic, sword heavy in his hand.

“Nice footwork,” he said.

“Thanks,” Sky kicked the bokoblin’s body over and looked back at him, a grin on his round, kind face. “I liked that faint you did; it was very impressive.”

Four shrugged and wiped the Four Sword off on the grass. “I can teach you it, if you want?”

There was laughter from the Hero of the Skies. “I don’t think I’m small enough.”

“ _Ouch_ ,” Four pressed his palm against his chest, but grinned. “You know, there’s more to it than—”

Something whistled past his ear, whipping through his hair and sending blonde strands fluttering to the ground. There was a howl from something behind him and it smashed against his chest, lighting like kerosene in his bones.

Red blood spilled down Sky’s shoulder, soaking into the front of his tunic and a wooden arrow shaft stuck out of the right side of his chest.

Four snarled, turning on his heel, lifting his sword.

A Moblin watched him from the hilltop, four bokoblins squealing and snorting before it. One still had its bow lifted, looking down a new arrow.

Four deflected it with his blade, tightened his grip on his sword, and wished to be broken apart.

Nothing happened.

oOo

Hours upon seconds upon minutes passed and Wolfie broke over the hillside, Time hot on his heels. Four watched them come, his sword abandoned in the dirt with the dead.

oOo

“I’m fine,” Sky waved away the hands that reached for him. “I’m fine, _really_.” He had a bandage wrapped around the upper part of his chest and Legend was cursing something awful across the campsite (newly cleaned tunic in his lap) as he stabbed himself in the thumb with his needle.

Four didn’t move when Sky sat down next to him with a grunt. His eyes were on the hilt of the Four Sword laying—as it had since he had dropped it there when they had gotten back—next to his pack.

“Never seen you react so poorly to someone getting injured before,” Sky said once he had settled.

“It’s not you,” Four told him.

There was a hum. “I figured,” Sky leaned back with a sigh. “What did your sword do?”

Four jerked and looked up at him. He hesitated, swallowing down all the things he wanted to say before sighing, his shoulders drooping. “Nothing.”

“Well, that’s the problem, I’m guessing,” Sky blew his bangs out of his face. “It did nothing.”

Turning away, Four stared at the small wall of trees blocking their campsite from the openness of Hyrule Field. He didn’t say anything.

There was shouting from the other side of the camp.

“Do you ever think they hate us?” Sky said. His voice was quiet and Four had to strain to hear it.

Turning to look up at the other hero, Four frowned. “Who?”

“Our weapons.”

Four blinked. “They’re objects,” he said.

“Are they?” Sky’s eyes were wide and so very blue. “Things that are saturated with so much magic tend to get a life of their own sometimes.”

Digging his nails into his thighs, Four turned to look at the Four Sword. The hilt caught the fading sunlight, shining red and green and blue and violet. It was a soft light, a gentle glimmer. More of a guiding star than a flash of hungry steel. “I don’t think they would hate us,” he said softly.

Sky hummed. “That’s good to hear,” he scratched at his bandages. Someone barked something across the camp and Sky rolled his eyes in response but dropped his hand.

“Yeah?” Four tried to loosen the hold his hand on his thighs.

“I mean, you’re the blacksmith here,” Sky shrugged. “If anyone would know it would be you.”

Four glanced at him before turning back to the Four Sword. “I drew it again,” he said without meaning to. “I drew it a second time and nothing happened.”

He was still here. Still one.

“But something happened the first time.”

“Yes.”

There was another thoughtful hum from Sky. “Well,” the hero of the Skies said after a moment. “Maybe it needs some time to rest.”

Four bit his bottom lip. He didn’t think it was that.

“Or,” Sky continued, “maybe it doesn’t think you need it as anything other than a sword right now.”

oOo

When the sun had set and the camp had fallen into a restless slumber, Four picked up his sword.

The hilt was warm and welcoming, a familiar weight in his hand.

Four drew it and watched the light catch on the steel. “I suppose I should trust you,” he said.

A glimmer of rainbow light arched across the blade that had nothing to do with amber firelight.

**Author's Note:**

> i dunno, i always liked the idea that the four sword hasn't split four up again since he's drawn it.


End file.
